


Battlefield Blood

by kaibasetos



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8909167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaibasetos/pseuds/kaibasetos
Summary: If they want you, they're gonna have to fight me.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Trigger warning for depictions of abuse. (Unrelated to the pairing.)** I tried to minimize this, so it's brief, but it still carries a harmful potential, so please read with care!
> 
> This fic was written for an anonymous user on Tumblr, who requested that I write JouKai based around the song "[Night Terror](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rsIKbH9p9zI)" by Laura Marling. It was intended to be a drabble, but it just kept escalating, so I rode it out. This is reminiscent of my previous works _Protect, Destroy_ and _Haunting_. I've always wanted the opportunity to expand on _Haunting_ , and finally having the stars align in time for me to jump on it was incredible. Thank you so much for the request, anon! I hope everyone enjoys this one!

“What do you think you’re doing, Seto?”

The low sound of Gozaburo’s voice sends a cold chill racing over Kaiba’s skin. He looks up from the blueprints he’s been scribbling out in crayon and Gozaburo stands before him, towers over him, a monument built of cruelty. His face is twisted into a mocking sneer and Kaiba’s hands start shaking. He tucks them in his lap and juts his chin out in defiance.

“Designing holographic technology for Duel Monsters,” he says, and his voice sounds meek and small. He feels meek and small. He doesn’t allow himself to feel ashamed. This is what he wants, what they both want. He will never be ashamed of that.

Gozaburo raises an eyebrow, and his tone takes a dangerous turn. “How many times have I told you to let go of those silly games of yours? This isn’t what I’m raising you for, Seto.” He cracks his knuckles and Kaiba jumps at the sound. “I’m raising you for _power_ , understand? Control over this whole world of ours. You should be grateful I’m even wasting my time and effort on such a hopeless cause.”

Kaiba stands abruptly, his legs unsteady and barely holding his weight. He balls his hands into fists. “Mokuba and I aren’t hopeless!” He bites, and feels tears stinging unbidden at the back of his eyes. He blinks them away. He can’t show vulnerability, not now. “We can be strong without war and destruction. We’re strong together. That’s something you’ll never understand, father.”

The tension between them immediately ratchets up. Gozaburo smirks and takes a step closer, menacing. “What did you just say to me?”

Kaiba swallows hard and narrows his eyes, bracing himself. If this is a bullet he has to take, he’ll take it -- for a better future, for his brother, for every child that has ever had to feel the way he does in this moment. “You heard me.”

Gozaburo shakes his head, breathing out laughter without any humor in it. “If you’re going to be so insistent on disobeying my orders, I suppose I’ll have to teach you to listen to me the hard way.”

Kaiba doesn’t back away when Gozaburo advances on him, but he cries out involuntarily when Gozaburo grabs his wrist so hard it hurts and wrenches it up. It contorts his arm and his muscles burn in objection when Gozaburo starts to drag him across the room, Kaiba stumbling in his wake.

“W-wait--” Kaiba stutters, and Gozaburo tightens his hold, twists harder. Pain shoots up to his shoulder and Kaiba chokes on a sob, his eyes squinting shut as his vision blackens around the edges. The room around him tips and swings, making him dizzy.

Kaiba wakes with a jolt, and the sensation of being dragged so suddenly from the nightmare is disorienting. He grips at the sheets, tangled and damp with sweat, and tries to breathe past the frantically pounding rhythm of his heartbeat. His head swims. He’s not there anymore, no longer a powerless child, no longer subject to--

“Kaiba,” Jounouchi whispers gratefully, and Kaiba opens his eyes. Jounouchi is over him, on top of him, the worry on his face only visible by the moonlight through the window. The weight of him is both comforting and suffocating. “Thank god you’re awake, you were scarin’ the shit out of me.”

“J--” Kaiba tries to speak, but his throat is raw as though from screaming in his sleep, and he winces.

Jounouchi shushes him, reaching up to run his fingertips over Kaiba’s cheek. Tears are dried there and Kaiba resolutely turns his face away, staring hard at the wall opposite his bed. He’d lived through the nightmares time and time again, so often that they were nothing to him now, and he’d never wanted Jounouchi to see him like this; pitiful, he thinks. Meek and small, just like he was when Gozaburo was still barbaric enough to frighten him. Nothing can frighten him anymore. Nothing. He clenches at the sheets and grits his teeth.

“Hey, come on,” Jounouchi urges him, gently gripping his chin and turning it so that they’re forced to make eye contact. There’s something different in his gaze, not concern but fire. Kaiba recognizes it as the fire that sparks when Jounouchi sees something he needs to protect, to fight for. He is suddenly blatantly aware of how much contact they’re in, and that fire burns from where Jounouchi’s fingers brush his face all the way down to where Jounouchi’s legs are braced on either side of him. He feels alight in it, bathing in it. “You don’t have to pull that right now, Kaiba. It’s just me.”

It’s just Jounouchi. Kaiba exhales and slowly loosens his grip on the sheets, clearing his throat. It stings, but he knows from experience that it won’t last long. “How much did you hear?” He asks carefully.

“All of it,” Jounouchi answers, and Kaiba frowns. Jounouchi shakes his head, the silver of the moon glinting off the gold of his hair. “No, I know. It’s just that I don’t give a fuck, Kaiba. Nothing about this is makin’ me judge _you_. I just wish I could--” Jounouchi cuts himself off and Kaiba feels his free hand, braced against the bed, curl hard into a fist. When he speaks again, his voice is full of unbridled contempt. “You don’t fuckin’ deserve this.”

Kaiba realizes faintly that Jounouchi is trembling, and something in his chest twists painfully. It’s him Jounouchi wants to protect, it’s him Jounouchi wants to fight for, but there is no war left to win. A battlefield will always be stained with blood, even centuries later when fresh new grass has grown where corpses used to lay. Kaiba reaches out and rests his hand on Jounouchi’s shoulder like a solemn vow. “I chose my path, Jounouchi. There is nothing that can be done about it now but to continue forward.”

Jounouchi laughs, almost silent and laced with something bitter and disbelieving. His gaze is daggers, but Kaiba knows they’re not meant for him. “That’s so like you to say.”

“It is like me to say because it's _true_ ,” Kaiba impresses pointedly, his nails catching Jounouchi’s shirt. “The past is done. Your anger is respectable, but it will lead to nothing but suffering.”

“You suffer because of it, why shouldn’t I?” Jounouchi challenges, a flash in his eyes.

Kaiba sighs. “Because you have the option not to.”

“But I don’t,” Jounouchi whispers vehemently, grabbing Kaiba’s hand from his shoulder and lacing their fingers together, pressing their held hands back against the bed with purpose. He stares Kaiba down intently. “You chose your path. I chose you. Every fight you’ve ever had and ever will is mine too.”

Goosebumps erupt across Kaiba’s flesh. It’s a foolish notion, but one that is typical of Jounouchi, and the sentiment fills him with inexplicable warmth. He’s never wanted nor accepted anyone’s charity, never felt as though he needed it, but this isn’t charity -- it’s passion, it’s desperation, it’s love. Kaiba knows all too well how it feels to be powerless to help someone you care about so recklessly you forget to care about yourself, but he never thought he’d be the subject of such a desire. He finds it difficult to breathe for a moment, his throat tightening. He squeezes Jounouchi’s hand lightly, applying just enough pressure to communicate the feeling. “You have always been too stubborn for your own good,” he comments finally, sounding a bit less even than he’d prefer.

Jounouchi’s face visibly softens and he grins, apparently content that Kaiba has cooled enough to jab at him in such a way. He squeezes Kaiba’s hand with just as much meaning, speaking a language only they can, and with that simple action the pressure in the room seems to ease. “That’s a little thing known as the pot callin’ the kettle black, Kaiba,” he jokes, and he lowers himself down to lie on top of Kaiba, his head on Kaiba’s chest and his free arm around Kaiba's side, holding him in some sense of the word. Kaiba tenses on instinct and Jounouchi rubs his thumb over the back of Kaiba’s hand, soothing. “This okay?”

Kaiba’s mouth is full of words he wants to say. Jounouchi sprawled across him, the feeling of him everywhere, his wild hair brushing Kaiba’s neck, everything keeping him anchored to the present; it straddles the borderline of just enough and too much and Kaiba is sure Jounouchi can hear his pulse quicken. Yet it yields to him like solace, like safety, like-- “Yes,” he murmurs, as if it’s more of an emotion than a response.

A long moment of silence stretches out between them, during which Kaiba is almost certain Jounouchi has fallen asleep again and he closes his eyes to chase down the flighty creature that is rest himself. Then, with a conviction in his voice that Kaiba has never heard before, Jounouchi whispers into the darkness: “I won’t let you hurt like this again, even if I have to fight every single person on this godforsaken planet to keep them from you.”

Kaiba takes a shuddering breath as the words roll through him, and he lets himself believe them. He lets himself believe, here in the shadows, here with their hands clasped, here with Jounouchi’s heartbeat only skin and bones away from his own, that the millstone is not his to carry alone.

In a semi-conscious state that blurs reality and dreaming, a memory from Kaiba’s nightmare floats back to him:

_We’re strong together._


End file.
